


Is It An Earthquake?

by VictoriaSinclair



Category: Emma Approved
Genre: F/M, Family, Pre-Series, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-13
Updated: 2014-06-13
Packaged: 2018-02-04 11:06:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1776865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VictoriaSinclair/pseuds/VictoriaSinclair
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Best man Alex Knightley abruptly realizes that maid of honor Emma Woodhouse isn't a little kid anymore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Is It An Earthquake?

**Author's Note:**

> Set roughly six years before Emma Approved, at the wedding of Izzy Woodhouse and John Knightley.
> 
> Thanks to my friends Melissa and Melissa for a) getting me to watch Emma Approved in the first place, b) encouraging and reading this story, and c) coming up with the title and song choice.

"Hey, Em." Alex Knightley dropped down in an empty chair next to Emma Woodhouse and surveyed the remains of the rehearsal dinner. The event had been a success, but Emma looked sad and exhausted, her head propped up on one hand. She'd always been so together and poised, even as a kid, so this public lapse was startling. "You okay?"

"I'm fine," she said listlessly.

"You must be exhausted from all the work you've been doing on this wedding," he offered. And it was true. Her sister Izzy was consumed with trying to finish her college semester while dealing with morning sickness, her father was happy enough to foot the bill but completely uninterested in the details, and Mrs. Woodhouse had died when her daughters were young, so 17-year-old Emma had taken on the lion's share of wedding planning responsibilities. Even this rehearsal dinner - the Knightleys had hosted it, as tradition dictated, but Alex knew his mother had been on the phone with Emma almost every day conferring about menus and music and napkin colors. As best man and big brother of the groom, Alex's only real planning responsibility had been the bachelor party, and that had been pretty tame, given that the groom and most of the groomsmen were underage.

"No, it's not that," Emma insisted. "I love this kind of thing. Planning, figuring out all the details, making everyone happy."

"And you're _good_ at it." She was. He'd _never_ have the patience to worry about this stuff. "Everyone's saying it will be the party of the year."

"Thanks." Emma smiled at him, a little shyly.

"So if it's not the party planning tiring you out . . . What's wrong, Em?" he tried again.

"I just . . ." she shrugged. "I hope they make this work."

"They? John and Izzy?"

Emma nodded.

"Of course they'll make it work," he said automatically. "You're the one who always said they'd end up together."

"I know, but . . . they're young for all this."

"Ah." Alex couldn't argue with that. Marriage and a baby while his brother was still in college hadn't exactly been part of anyone's plan. "They are. But they're smart, and they have plans, and our parents will help them."

"Yeah." Emma smiled at him, but it didn't reach her eyes. "But Izzy's always been so ambitious. She's going to be a great mom, but I want her to be a great architect too."

"She will be," Alex assured her. Emma still looked unconvinced, so he figured a change of subject would distract her. "The rehearsal went perfectly. Everything on track for tomorrow?"

Emma pulled a list out of her purse and frowned at it. "I think so, but I probably don't really have time to be sitting here."

"I'm sure you can relax for a minute. Anything I can help with?"

"Just try to make John and the groomsmen get some sleep, okay? They need to look rested in the pictures. I don't want them up playing video games all night. College boys," Emma sniffed.

It was all Alex could do not to laugh at the oh-so-mature high school girl. "I'll do my best," he promised.

***

Alex stood with his brother and the groomsmen at the front of the church, milling around a little nervously. Finally the correct music started and a line of bridesmaids in flowing lavender entered the church, followed by - Emma. God. _Emma._ Her dress was a deeper purple, to set her apart from the bridesmaids, he figured, and the simple cut was breathtakingly mature on her, and her hair was up, with soft tendrils floating around her face, and she looked - well. Some combination of shock and self-preservation kept Alex from finishing that sentence, even in his own head.

"Dude." Tim, the groomsman next to him, jabbed Alex with his elbow. "Shut your mouth. It's supposed to be the groom who looks like he's going to pass out."

"I'm fine. It's - warm in here," Alex managed. "And the tux . . ." God, was he that obvious?

"Uh-huh. Look, you're the best man. I'm sure we can get you your pick of bridesmaids at the reception."

Oh. _Oh._ Good. Tim assumed he was looking at one of the bridesmaids. Fine. He _should_ be looking at the bridesmaids. He shouldn't be looking at Emma, anyway, but then the whole wedding party took their places for the ceremony, him right behind his brother and Emma behind her sister, and there she was directly in his line of sight.

This was ridiculous. Alex resolutely told his thoughts to get back under control and struggled to pay attention to the service - which was lovely, probably because Emma had planned it. God. _Stop it._ This was nothing. It _meant_ nothing. He was just - startled, that's all, to suddenly see her so transformed, so grown up. She'd always been beautiful - Alex couldn't claim that part was a _surprise_ \- but he'd spent his entire life thinking of Emma like a kid sister, and now she was _definitely_ not a kid. It would throw anyone, he reassured himself.

It was a relief when one of Izzy's friends got up to do a reading, giving Alex an excuse to force himself to look somewhere other than right in front of him. And to ignore the voice in the back of his head pointing out that this new, grown-up Emma wasn't technically his _sister_ , either.

***

Alex was pretty sure he was in hell. The whole idiotic garter/bouquet thing was the stupidest tradition ever. He was sure his brother had thrown the garter straight at him, the bastard, and Izzy's _very enthusiastic_ friend who'd caught the bouquet was going on about fate and how _hard_ it must be for Alex to see his little brother happy and settled while he was still alone. He was only barely managing not to snap back that he was _22_ , for Christ's sake, and hardly worrying about _getting married_. At least remaining determinedly polite through this ordeal was giving him something to focus on other than how Emma had felt in his arms during the wedding party dance.

Or on what Izzy had said during his dance with his new sister-in-law. "Do me a favor, Alex? Try to make sure Emma has some fun tonight. She's been so stressed planning everything for me, and she didn't bring a date or anything . . ."

He'd agreed, of course: anything for the bride, and who was he kidding? Under normal circumstances, at any other social function, he'd be hanging out with Emma anyway, and it wasn't the fault of either Woodhouse sister that he'd randomly wigged himself out earlier. So he'd act normal, and everything would be fine.

What was _not_ fine was the way his dance partner was leaning in closer and closer, literally batting her eyelashes at him. Alex realized he'd been lost in his thoughts when one song ended and another started, so he was stuck and this girl probably thought he was actually _interested_. He looked around, trying to formulate an escape plan.

Finally, _finally_ , he caught Emma's eye. "Save me," he mouthed.

She smirked and shook her head a little, but a moment later, she appeared next to him, looking businesslike.

"Sorry, Brianne, but I need to steal Alex here for important wedding party duties." Her tone was icily polite and brooked no argument; Brianne was left spluttering as Emma took Alex's arm and steered him off the dance floor and outside to a balcony. They turned a corner and suddenly were out of sight of the ballroom.

"Thank you."

Emma was smirking again. "Your date a little too eager, there?"

"She was _not_ my date," he said quickly, before realizing that Emma was just messing with him. "Hey, I didn't see _you_ out there for the bouquet toss."

"I was busy. Lots of details to check on."

"You were avoiding it."

Emma rolled her eyes. "Can you blame me?"

"Absolutely not," Alex said emphatically. "But you could have warned _me_ to escape in time too."

"Can't give away all my secrets," she said lightly, her hand still on his arm. "So does Brianne have a thing for you?"

Alex shrugged. "I didn't get the impression that it's personal, really. It seems to be open season on the Knightley boys."

Emma pulled away from him, like she'd been scalded. "Izzy would _never_ \- "

"No!" Alex touched her shoulder; he needed her to look at him, to see he was sincere. "No, Em. That's not what I meant. Never that."

"Okay . . ." she said warily.

"I just meant that John getting married seems to have opened the floodgates. Everyone's rushing to marry off his pathetic single older brother."

" _What?_ " Was he seeing things, or had panic flashed across her face? "You can't get married. That's ridiculous."

"Well, exactly. I'm 22. I have a _lot_ I want to do before even thinking about that."

Emma made a face. "I'm _never_ getting married."

"Okay." He grinned at her. "So what _are_ you going to do?"

"I'm going to have my own business," she announced grandly. "I'm going to have an _empire_."

Alex tried to suppress his chuckle. "You? Business? You hate business stuff."

"You can help me. We'll be partners," she said, like it was the most reasonable thing in the world.

"Okay," he said again, feeling the goofy grin he couldn't seem to get off it's face. God, no, _not_ okay. Going into business with Emma - all dreams and fairy tales and never having to think about money a day in her life? That sounded like a _terrible_ idea. But she was looking at him with those eyes, in that _dress_ , and he was pretty sure he'd agree to anything she wanted right now.

"Good." It was light but firm, like it was all settled.

"What kind of empire are you planning, exactly?" He couldn't resist asking, even though he knew he shouldn't be _encouraging_ her, shouldn't be tacitly agreeing to his part in . . . whatever this was. Oh well. It wasn't like she'd remember any of this by the time she was out of school, or hold him to it.

"Oh, I don't know." She waved a hand vaguely. "We'll think of something."

"Uh-huh." The music drifting out from the ballroom changed, the singer doing her best Ella on "At Long Last Love," and - oh, what the hell? He held out his hand. Just trying to distract her from taking possession of his entire future, he told himself sternly. That's all this was. "I like this song. Dance with me."

Emma looked around the deserted balcony. "Out here?"

"Why not?" He took her hand and twirled her gently, then pulled her in. "I'm fine with hiding from everyone for a little while if you are."

"Maybe I should check on the cake . . ." she said doubtfully.

"Later. Izzy _specifically_ told me to make sure you relaxed and had some fun tonight."

Emma raised an eyebrow. "And you think ignoring the party of the year to dance with you on an empty balcony qualifies as _fun_ , Alex Knightley?"

"Absolutely. I mean, _apparently_ I'm the catch of the evening." He could barely keep a straight face as he said it, and as soon as she collapsed into giggles he gave in too. They leaned against each other, laughing, swaying slightly to the music that drifted out into the night.

**Author's Note:**

> The title comes from the song they dance to - "At Long Last Love" by Cole Porter.


End file.
